


I Love You Too

by FatalViolet520



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: All's well ends well, Fluff, Implied Smut, Informal proposals, M/M, Nightmares, Rogue is done with cheesy romances, Some angst if you notice, Sting is a romantic, They're just so in love, after the war, stingue, wedding invitations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:02:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalViolet520/pseuds/FatalViolet520
Summary: “Stop.” Rogue says gruffly, and, really, Sting shouldn’t be surprised. As Rogue turns on his other side to face Sting, his warm hand rests against the blond’s cheek. There’s a soft glow in the red gaze that Sting can’t quite place, but it elicits a feeling inside Sting.A feeling of belonging.





	I Love You Too

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics taken from Mamamoo's 'I Love You Too'.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail characters. Unfortunately.

_“All my days were painted in grey,_

_I can’t express how much you’ve changed my life,_

_Won’t let you go, my star, my light, my hope.”_

 

* * *

  

There’s the sharp, aching relief in his chest it’s almost tangible, Sting thinks. As Sabertooth crowds around the twin slayers, Sting gives Rogue a once-over, then twice-over, checking if there had been any additional injuries sustained when they were unceremoniously dropped from the sky. Of course, Rogue is already bruised and battered, and even if he were hurt yet again, Sting probably wouldn’t even recognize where. Already, people are celebrating the downfall of Acnologia, others mourning for the loss of their family. Sting clutches Lector a little closer to himself and breathes out slowly, grateful that his guild hadn’t suffered too many casualties.

 

“Sting-sama?”

 

Sting smiles, but his mind is somewhere else. He keeps his gaze trained on Rogue, watching for any signs of fatigue, because he will be damned if he lets Rogue suffer again. Twice, his magic had been utterly sapped, and he’s busy stewing in his thoughts when Rogue turns and catches his eyes. His chin moves to the right slightly, and Sting takes that as cue to follow Rogue. “Sorry, Yukino. I’ll - “

 

“Be with Rogue-sama,” The stellar spirit mage finishes, “Take your time. We’ll round up the members and try to get a healer.” Minerva nods and starts shepherding the guild to safer grounds - or, at least, where they can all sit. Sting thinks it’s probably impossible, but, hey, it’s their Lady. He falls into step beside Rogue, hands just a hair’s breadth apart, but Sting’s more than okay with this. Rogue’s voice is sandy when he finally speaks, but Sting’s too relieved to hear his voice.

 

“I never told you,” Rogue starts out, his tone measured. Sting recognizes this tone. “After you - I gave you my shadows,” Ruby eyes dart a glance at sapphire ones, “I… You reminded me of… of him - me.”

 

Sting remembers it again. The intoxicating rush of Rogue’s shadows, his arm encased with solid proof of his partner, and he fights down the rising nerves in favour of grinning widely at Rogue. Throwing an arm around Rogue’s shoulders, he says, “Well, I hope we never eat each other’s powers ever again,” He pauses, throws Rogue an assessing glance, then, “I’d much prefer it when we do a Unison Raid.” He doesn’t expect the blush that skitters across Rogue’s cheeks, but he quite likes it.

 

He’ll just have to do it more often.

 

Rogue groans, his face buried in Frosch. “What did I do to get you…”

 

Sting’s heart is full to bursting, and it seems like even Rogue is affected, because after a few moments of embarrassment, Rogue turns to Sting with his brightest smile yet, and Sting is enamoured enough to kiss his cheek chastely. The world’s getting better, Sting decides, watching a shy Rogue splutter to Frosch, though he doesn’t complain about the kiss. The war’s over, he’s got his family beside him, and his guild can only get better.

 

Oh, yeah, the world’s definitely getting better.

 

* * *

 

 “Oh God - Sting! You go back to Yukino _right now_ or your arm _will_ fall out - “

  

* * *

 

Several nights later, Sting can’t sleep, mind plagued terrible memories with the freshly-finished war. Memories of dead-strewn bodies, of them crucified and humiliated beyond belief, of the hopeless feeling that crashed down as they faced off against Acnologia.

 

“Stop.” Rogue says gruffly, and, really, Sting shouldn’t be surprised. As Rogue turns on his other side to face Sting, his warm hand rests against the blond’s cheek. There’s a soft glow in the red gaze that Sting can’t quite place, but it elicits a feeling inside Sting.

 

A feeling of belonging.

 

* * *

 

The twin dragons don’t fight, Sting stresses. They’re merely having a _disagreement, isn’t that right, Cheney_? Rogue scowls, and Sting scowls right back, much to Yukino’s shock.

 

“Right, that’s it,” Minerva declares, then has them sitting down, facing each other in a quiet corner of the guild hall, “You are going to talk it out, _capisce_?” Minerva might not be evil, but she’s still scary, and neither of them are in a hurry to face her wrath. Some of the guild members obligingly rise out of their seats to give them some space, while Minerva sits away, close enough to prevent a fight and far enough not to eavesdrop. Yukino has shuffled to the kitchen, checking on her cooking, but also because she’s ready to provide food comfort.

 

They sit there for what seems like hours, both too stubborn to start talking. Sting can’t stand it.

 

“Sting I - “

 

“Rogue, look - “

 

Evidently, Rogue feels the same way as him. No surprise there, Sting thinks, but he’s surprised at how pleased he feels. He shakes his head and presses on, “Rogue, look,” The blond reaches over, grasping Rogue’s hands. He’s trembling. “We can go together. I don’t - “ His throat narrows alarmingly, “I can’t take this anymore. I can’t help you when I can’t help myself,” He gazes beseechingly at Rogue, “The dreams - Every night I see you _die_ and I can do _nothing_ about it, and I can’t imagine how bad it is for you so let me _help_ you.” His voice finally breaks.

 

Rogue takes a while to reply, his voice coated with sobs, “I’m so _scared_ ,” Rogue’s voice is small and there is nothing more that Sting would like to do other than sweep Rogue into his arms because he knows how much courage Rogue must have mustered up to tell him he’s scared, “I - I’m scared that one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be _dead_ because I can’t control my shadows, and I’m scared that you’ll leave me because I’m not - not - _not_ \- good enough, and I’m scared to do all this,” Rogue is weeping fiercely now, head bowed, and Sting is crying too, “But I _want_ to.”

 

“You have no idea,” Sting says thickly as he walks round the table, pulling Rogue against him, “You have _no idea_ .” He presses kisses to soft black hair, waiting until Rogue’s trembling has subsided. There’s a breathy whisper against his chest and tears prick at his eyes again. “I love you so much.”

* * *

 

Home is wherever they are together, at the end of the day.

 

* * *

 

Sting doesn’t usually drink coffee, but he’s been up all night by his own dreams and because Rogue couldn’t stop shaking. He appraises Rogue, who looks much less paler than he did in the wee hours of the morning, even though his eyes are red-rimmed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Rogue presses his lips together, and Sting waits patiently. “It’s the same dream,” Rogue admits, hands cupping the warm cup, “But it felt so real this time.” Sting can’t imagine it. Dreaming of having never met Rogue is recurring nightmare, and even when he wakes up and Rogue is there, soft and solid beside him, he still can’t shake the lingering fear off.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Sting says, “But we’re realer.”

 

“That’s not a word,” Rogue says into the bottom of his cup, but he’s smiling.

 

* * *

  

“How are you today?” Rogue asks him. Today’s a rainy day, and Sting had opted to go home rather than stay behind at the guild to try and tackle the never-ending stacks of paperwork. One day he’ll eat all the papers and save on food costs, then burn the Magic Council down because the amount of papers they give him is ridiculous.

 

“Hmm,” Sting nuzzles into the crook of Rogue’s neck, so his answer is somewhat muffled, “I’m better. Getting there.” Rogue hums, then lifts Sting’s chin up. Sting smiles, and Rogue’s dazzled by the bright blue stare. “Thanks to you.”

 

Rogue smiles, a slow, gentle one that makes Sting’s heart full with - love. There. He’s acknowledged it. “Sting,” Rogue breathes out, their lips inches apart, “I never properly told you before,” His gaze is steady and burning with a fierce emotion Sting hasn’t seen before, “I love you.” He leans his forehead against Sting’s, “So much.”

 

Sting doesn’t blush, but the colouring flies through his cheeks and settles there, a warm feeling he doesn’t want to get rid of. Still, after all this time, they still think of the same things at the same time, and it makes Sting go a little more crazy, fall a little more in love. His hands settle on Rogue’s waist, and a smile curls his lips upwards. “I love you too. So much.” He realizes with a jolt that he’s never kissed Rogue before, let alone anyone, but with the way Rogue’s looking at him, there’s only one person he wants to kiss for the rest of his life.

 

Their first kiss is light and tentative, a mere brush of their lips, but then it evolves to something warm and welcoming, and it feels like slotting a piece of himself he didn’t know he lost back where it belonged. When he pulls away and Rogue chases his lips automatically, he comes to a conclusion. That piece of him he lost - wasn’t even lost. It was his heart, and his heart was with Rogue. Rogue tugs on his shirt shyly, and Sting obliges, kissing him hard. Besides, he thinks hazily, mind fogged, he’s pretty sure he’s got Rogue’s heart with him as well.

 

* * *

  

The nightmares never stop, Sting notes dryly. It’s more than half a year after the war ended, but he’s still plagued with horrible memories on loop, and to add to that, his own fears are materialising in his dreams. It’s all a bit much, but they take their therapist’s advice. After a lot of nagging, of course. He can’t quite take for granted that his right shoulder is now more fragile than ever, and it hurts if he puts too much pressure on it. But he sneaks a look at Rogue, who looks like the epitome of peacefulness, and he swears he can’t take this for granted.

 

This life. Of being able to wake up to a tousle-haired Rogue, burning breakfast and laughing as Rogue glares at him, of being able to come home. He’s lucky. “You’re too good for me,” Sting blurts out, eyes trained on his boyfriend.

 

Rogue looks up, both surprised and put out at the sudden admission. He closes his book and seats himself closer to Sting. “We’ve been through this,” He mutters, curling a hand around Sting’s neck, “I’m not a saint. I just love you.”

 

“Yeah?” Sting latches on to Rogue’s neck, and he manhandles Rogue into his lap, “Let me show you exactly _how much_ I love you.” Rogue snorts - probably figured out it’s just another cheesy way of implying he wants sex, but he lets his shirt to be tugged off.

 

“You’re insatiable,” Rogue accuses, cheeks already a faint red, “You survived without sex for years!”

 

“It’s not just sex,” Sting says, occupied with smoothing his hands down Rogue’s chest, “I’m showing how much I love you,” He kisses Rogue, “Besides, I can’t keep my hands off you. Not when I know what you can do to me.” Rogue yelps and hits Sting, embarassed even though it’s just the two of them at home.

 

“ _Don’t_ say things like that.”

 

“But they’re true.”

* * *

  

“Morning. Coffee?” Sting says brightly the next morning, watching his boyfriend wander into the kitchen.

 

“Sounds good. If you don’t ruin it.” Rogue collapses on the kitchen table, hands cupping his face.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Mentally, I’m sound. Physically, I’m damned sore. You owe me a backrub.”

 

Sting grins childishly, placing a cup of coffee in front of Rogue. “All worth it,” He declares, “I get to make love to the most beautiful man in the whole world. Worth any amount of backrubs.”

 

“Oh, my god. I thought you couldn’t get any cheesier, you romantic.”

 

“You love it.”

 

“Since I love you, well, I guess I do.”

 

“I love you too. Drink your coffee. I didn’t poison it.”

 

“... _Ack_ , are you _sure_ you mixed it well enough? I feel like I’m drinking coffee dregs.”

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t mean to ask the question _now_ , even though it’s been on his mind for a while. It slips out, an unguarded, vulnerable question that Sting’s sure Rogue will see right through him. “Do you want a ring?” Sting asks. They’re at home, wearing next to nothing, because Sting is an opportunist. Rogue considers the question, his body fitting under Sting’s arm like two jigsaw pieces. Sting gets distracted by the soft line of Rogue’s neck, but then there’s a warm body in his lap, and he tilts his head up to meet Rogue’s brilliant gaze.

 

They don’t emerge from their bedroom until well past noon.

 

* * *

 

For the next few months there’s a flurry of busy activities, and Rufus barks orders like he’s a general going into battle. Sting thinks he’s overdramatic, but Rogue shrugs. “Would you rather organize this all by yourself, on top of your guild master duties?” Sting blanches, then fills in a few more forms.

 

But, really, he’s happy. After all, he gets to ditch boring paperwork for something else, even if it means complicated seating arrangements and tedious customised suits. And there’s the added bonus of seeing Rogue in something so fantastic, so Sting has no reason to complain. Even when tempers flare because it’s not easy, it’s all worth it.

 

Cause, who _cares_ , they’re getting _married_.

 

* * *

 

_Sting Eucliffe_

 

_and_

 

_Rogue Cheney_

 

_Request your presence at the ceremony and celebration of their marriage,_

 

_20th April X795, at 4 in the afternoon,_

 

_Within the town which Sabertooth is located in,_

 

_At the Grand Chapel._

 

_Reception to follow._

 

_Please RSVP by 6th April X795._

 

**_Attending_ **

 

~~_Not Attending_ ~~

 

* * *

 

Sting’s blubbering before the wedding even starts, because the chapel is beautiful in the afternoon sun shining through the stained windows, and people are starting to file in. They’re going to be walking down the aisle together, each entering from a staircase on the opposite side of the end of the aisle. “You did well,” Sting calls to Rufus, who shoots him a thumbs-up and continues directing people to _sit, not just stand there and gawk at the groom_. He catches Minerva’s eye and she shooed him back to his room. “I can’t believe you separated us,” he grumbles at Minerva, who shrugs.

 

“Not my fault you’re so entirely dependent on him,” She looks at him thoughtfully, “I probably shouldn’t tell you… But Sabertooth’s running a bet.”

 

Sting almost expects this, “Well, out with it. What’s the bet?”

 

“We’re betting who’ll cry first. There’s a lot of money on you.”

 

“Uncalled for!”

 

“What’re you complaining for? You’re just proving that you’re madly in love with Rogue to everyone.”

 

Before he can retort, the music starts, and it’s his cue to step out the door. He meets Rogue halfway, and _pah, what are nerves_ ? Rogue’s smiling the widest he’s ever seen in all their years of knowing each other, and Sting’s in twelve different kinds of love. Rogue is _beautiful_ . Sting can barely manage to keep his grin down, smoothing the front of his black suit down as he approaches his soon-to-be-husband. He offers his hand, kisses Rogue’s hand - the crowd _oohs_ and _aahs_ \- then they walk down the aisle. Sting can’t keep his eyes off Rogue in platinum white, and doesn’t for the rest of the evening. The officiant starts reciting, long-winded passages that Sting doesn’t really care for. Neither does Rogue, he guesses, from the way Rogue keeps looking back at him. Then it’s time to say their vows, and after a few seconds, Rogue goes first.

 

He reaches over to grasp both of Sting’s hands, words melting and forming on his tongue as he gazes at Sting. “Sting. I love you. I always have and I always will. I - you - you’re the light to my shadow, my better half, my everything.” He takes a breath, willing himself to keep his emotions in check, “I haven’t left your side for the past 10 years, and I have no inclination of leaving you ever. I promise to always be with you, and support every foolish thing you decide to do, because I love you, and no words are enough, because I love you so, so much.” The crowd is sniffling - he can hear Yukino crying -  and Sting’s eyes are watering.

 

“Rogue.” He starts, then clears his throat, “You’re the best thing that I’ve ever come across in my life. I - “ His throat closes up, but he presses on, “There were times that were difficult, but I always believed that we could make it out together. Light cannot exist without shadow, and I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you. So, from now on, I promise - promise, to always love you, because loving you will be the easiest thing to do.” His sight blurs alarmingly, and when hot tears spill out, Rogue’s crying happy tears as well.

 

The officiant smiles gently, “I pronounce you bonded for life.” They hug first, then when Natsu - of course it’s Natsu - yells, “Kiss him!” Sting does. They’re laughing against each other’s lips, and it doesn’t make for a very nice feeling, but _who cares_ , they’re married.

 

* * *

 

The reception is more than wild - they’re mixing what’s most of the Grand Magic Games teams, what on earth had they expected - and the alcohol flows a bit more freely than they had expected. Various gifts and toasts are given - Yukino gives one so heartwarming Minerva beams; Natsu and Gajeel insult each other as they give their speeches; and Master Makarov makes one that leaves Rogue blushing brightly. Sting decides not to mention the kinds of gifts he received, lest he receives his first punch from his husband in less than two hours.

 

_Husband_. Now that’s a nice word.

 

When they go back to their apartment at midnight, they bumble around in a familiar routine, washing up before they go to bed, and it occurs to Sting that they’re acting like they’ve been married for years. As he turns the lights off, Rogue gives him a happy, drunken smile, and Sting can’t ask for more.

* * *

 

“ - and the paperwork from the last month still hasn’t been passed in - Eucliffe, are you listening?”

 

“And that’s Eucliffe-Cheney to you,” Sting said right back, bored with the guild master’s meeting, “The paperwork from last month was _exactly_ the same paperwork you gave me three months ago, so I didn’t fill them in, because I assume the Council saves all copies of past paperwork, _don’t they_?” He leans back with a smug smile, tucking his bare hands behind his head He hasn’t worn his gloves for the past month, and for perfectly good reason as well.

 

Maybe he’ll invest in fingerless gloves next time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> What was supposed to be a short after-war fic turned into a 3K fic. I have no words.
> 
> This is my first fic on AO3, so I hoped you enjoyed it since I'm a massive Stingue fan. If there's any part you liked or somewhere to improve feel free to leave a comment!


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